


The Drive-In

by Babylawyer



Series: The Notebook [6]
Category: Once Upon a Time (TV)
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-17
Updated: 2019-07-17
Packaged: 2020-06-30 06:51:15
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,490
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19847815
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Babylawyer/pseuds/Babylawyer
Summary: For the prompt: Robin and Regina go to a Drive-In and have some fun ;), there's a bit of plot before said fun.Set in December 1948





	The Drive-In

Things are weird between her and Robin. Things have been strained ever since she walked in on him over the weekend pleasuring himself while she was taking care of their child. She knows she shouldn't feel anything about it, it's a natural urge, and it's not like she's been taking care of those needs, but it does, it bothers her even though she knows it shouldn't. It's just, it stings a bit, knowing he still wants it, only doesn't want _her_.

She's let herself go since having Henry, is fat and frumpy, and so it is no real surprise Robin has stopped wanting her. She can't remember the last time she felt sexual, felt sexy. All she feels these days is tired all of the time. Henry is a difficult baby, he cries and cries if he's not in one of their arms, and sometimes even then, he still cries. He is wonderful and she loves him so _so_ much, but she would give an awful lot for a full uninterrupted night's sleep. She does her best to keep him from disturbing Robin, is up and in his room consoling him before Robin even wakes up most of the time. She's constantly on high alert and it takes its toll, but Robin works hard for them, while she contributes nothing, can't even get their son to calm down or sleep through the night.

She's failing at everything lately—mothering, being Robin's partner, actually contributing to the household and… sex. That's probably why it bothers her so much, it's a reminder of yet another area she is failing at. Before Henry, he couldn't keep his hands off her, and now, well he'd rather the company of his palm. She doesn't blame him, can't, but she misses him, misses being with him even though she's far too tired to make the effort to try to make that happen—she'd be rejected anyway, which is not something she wants to experience.

So she's stuck, she has no idea what to do, how to make things right and doesn't know if she has it in her to even attempt to figure it out. Man, what does that say about her, no wonder Robin doesn't desire her anymore. The old Regina would have thrown herself into fixing any problem, but now she's too tired, too lazy. She can't remember the last time she did anything that wasn't about Henry. Maybe that's just her life now, she's a mom, and maybe everything should be about him. But if it is, she should be a perfect mom, and she is _not_ that, and somehow she's also supposed to be a perfect wife, which she is not either. They aren't even married yet so there's strike one. Her mother told her she would fail at this, and though Regina is loath to admit it, her mother was right.

Henry's asleep in her arms and she wants to move, wants to set him down in the crib and maybe take a nap herself, but he's only just gone to sleep, and with her luck, he will wake as soon as she tries to set him down. Robin's off early today too, so she shouldn't nap, should make something for when he gets home, should clean their house because it's been way too long.

She waits another ten minutes, slowly makes her way up the stairs without jostling Henry, and gets him into the crib. Her muscles are heavy, brain foggy. Doing anything but laying in her bed sounds like torture, so she goes to bed, she'll just lay for a minute, regain some strength. She'll only close her eyes for a second.

She opens her eyes, rolls over, then it hits her and she jolts up. She took a nap and apparently a long one—there's no way Henry is still asleep.

She rushes to his room, but on the way she hears Robin singing playfully and oh. They must have both been asleep when Robin got home. She's grateful Robin let her sleep, she needs it, but she feels bad that he got home from work and immediately had to jump into parenting. He should be able to relax when he gets home, not have to pick up her slack. It's yet another reminder of how badly she's doing and it annoys her, which is ridiculous because he did something nice, she _should_ be happy, so she's also annoyed that she feels this way.

That feeling simmers down when Henry spies her coming down the stairs and his face lights up as he squeals happily.

"There's chicken if you want some, we ate earlier," Robin offers, before turning his attention back to Henry.

"You should have woken me," she says, and Robin sighs.

He sounds resigned as he tells her, "I thought you could use the extra sleep."

He's not wrong, and she's being ridiculous. "Thank you."

He offers her a strained smile in lieu of a response. She stands awkwardly for a moment, frozen, unsure what to do. She wishes things weren't so weird right now, misses when life was simpler, when she and Robin were completely comfortable, completely in sync with each other.

She eats by herself in the kitchen, is just finishing up when she spies lights coming through the window. She goes to the window for a better look, it has to be Tink or John, no one else stops by randomly. When it gets closer, she recognizes Tink's car.

Tink will help drag her out of this funk, and will be a nice buffer between her and Robin, will help to keep the awkwardness to a minimum.

She meets her at the door, and they exchange hellos. They are mid-hug when Tink tells her, "I'm here to babysit your son."

"What?"

"You heard me," Tink says smugly, then looks over Regina's shoulder, "Hi Robin, and hi to my favourite little boy."

"Hi, Tink," Robin responds, and Regina turns to see Robin passing a cooing Henry to Tink.

Tink laughs as Henry grabs for her hair, something Regina finds less cute and more annoying. She cut off almost all of her hair a month ago, sick of it being pulled and tugged constantly. It wasn't super long before but long enough. Now it's to her chin, and she doesn't really like it but it's easiest with Henry so she's planning on keeping it this way until he gets over the hair tugging phase.

"To what do we owe the pleasure?" Robin asks.

"You two are going out."

"What?" Robin asks as she raises an eyebrow at Tink.

"You two need some time for yourselves. I've got Henry, and you guys are going out."

"Thank you for the offer Tink but—" she starts.

"No, none of this 'thanks but,' you two are going out. I'm not offering or suggesting, I'm telling you."

Robin laughs quietly beside her, he's clearly fine with this plan, but how can he not realize how awkward it's going to be, they can't be alone together, things are too weird right now. "I… It's almost Henry's bedtime and I always put him to bed."

"It's time to let someone else do that for a change. It's been five months, Regina, you have to leave him alone some time."

"I… but… if he won't sleep or he's upset you won't be able to reach us."

Tink rolls her eyes, "I can handle a couple of hours of screaming Henry, but I don't think that's going to happen. Look at him, he's so happy today."

She can't deny that Henry is in an exceptionally good mood, maybe all the screaming is finally behind them. "I always feed him before bed, and I haven't since before his nap, he's going to go hungry."

Tink walks beside her, passing Henry as she remarks, "Feed him now, and then get out."

She's running out of excuses so she looks to Robin and he looks… happy, excited even, and it wears down her resolve. He wants to do this, so maybe it won't be so bad. Maybe Tink is right, maybe they need this.

"Okay," she relents and settles down in the chair to feed Henry.

His feeding put Henry to sleep and Tink takes him from her, managing not to wake him in the transfer.

She and Robin bid her goodbye, then head to the car. Robin grabs her door for her and it's sweet so she smiles. He smiles back at her, looking really good as he does. He's a beautiful man, she knows that, but she hasn't been taking the time to appreciate it, to drink him in, is usually too distracted by their son. She's admired him being a father, but she hasn't stopped to admire him for him, in ages. It's a shame really, she's been missing out.

She watches him as he rounds the car and gets into his seat. They haven't discussed where they are going, but he starts up the car so she wonders if he has a plan.

"So, darling," he says once he's backed out of the spot and is starting down the driveway, "What do you want to do?"

She almost suggests a long drive, knows Robin loves them, but then they have to make conversation the whole time, this is going well so far, but she doesn't want to push her luck. Then she remembers Tink complaining to her that the drive-in is closing for renovations in a couple of weeks, and she knows what she wants to do.

"This is probably our last chance to go to the drive-in before the renovations."

She can hear his amusement in his, "Do you even know what's playing?"

"Does it really matter?" she counters.

He laughs then, "No, I guess not, we'll be late though."

She shrugs, "I'm fine with that. Did you know I've never actually been to a drive-in before?"

"You haven't?"

"No. You know how mother was about movies. Daniel was going to take me once but then he had to go away for work and it got forgotten. By the time one opened here, I was too pregnant to sit in the car for that long."

"Alright, to Victory Downs Drive-In then."

* * *

Robin was right, they are late, so late that they are stuck at the very back. They probably could have gotten a bit closer but they didn't want to be the latecomers disturbing people, so they settled in this far back, secluded spot.

They aren't really paying attention to the movie, the sound is playing through the car speakers, but they've been talking. It's so nice to be able to sit and chat without distraction, interruption or the feeling she should be doing something else. This was a good idea. She needs to thank Tink after. They needed to do this, to leave the house together, to take a little time away for them.

"This is nice," she admits softly, smiling over at Robin, not bothering to look at the screen.

He isn't looking at it either, his gaze is fixed on her in a way that makes her blush and feels a bit self-conscious. "It is; we should do this more often."

She nods while fiddling with her hair, tucking a loose strand behind her ear. Robin's eyes follow the movement as an odd look flutters over his face. She finds herself questioning, "What?"

He shakes his head, mumbles, "Sorry, I, uh, got a bit distracted is all."

"Oh, I see." She tries not to show her disappointment on her face, but she's not sure she succeeds. She thought they were having a wonderful time, but she's boring him, maybe this wasn't a good idea after all.

"No, not like that, darling. I was admiring your hair."

She narrows her eyes, "My hair?"

"I quite like it this way."

She can feel her nose scrunching as she asks, "Really?" He nods. "Oh, I don't, but it's easier with Henry."

Robin laughs, "Yes, that makes sense. Now if only I could somehow make my nose and ears less appealing we'd be good."

She chuckles remembering the many times Henry has tugged at Robin's face. She's a bit more strict, will push his hands away, but Robin just lets it happen and it's entertaining to watch.

"You could try discouraging it," she teases, and laughs at the over the top, shocked frown he gives her.

"No, wow, I _never_ would have thought of that."

She swats his arm playfully and drawls, "Well clearly not since you just let him poke and prod at your face."

He snickers, "You may be onto something. I should have followed your lead, but I thought it wouldn't make a difference. And now I have no one to blame but myself for it."

"Well, I didn't know it would work. I was just sick of having his hands in my face; I couldn't take it anymore. And he still reaches for me."

"Yeah, but not as much. He's learned, and with you it seems more like testing if you'll let him and when you don't, he gives in. You're so good with him, you're such a natural at this."

She scoffs and raises her eyebrows because that is the farthest thing from the truth. "You're kidding, right?"

He shakes his head, prompting her to continue. "I have no idea what I'm doing, and I am not good at this. I'm sleep deprived and short tempered—"

"Darling, you are an amazing mom, and Henry loves you so much."

"I can barely get him to stop crying—"

"Neither can I. He's fussy, that's not your fault."

She shakes her head. "How do you know that? Maybe if I was a better mother he wouldn't be so upset all the time."

"Oh love, don't think like that. You are incredible with him, seriously. I don't know how you do it."

She's still not sure he's right but the compliment warms her. "It's hard, and I kind of feel like I've lost myself a little. Every day, every waking moment, it's about Henry… and I love him, and I'm so grateful but… it's exhausting."

She looks down, looks anywhere but at him as she confesses this, and his hand comes to grab hers, squeezing firmly as he tells her, "I want to help you, but you don't let me—"

"That's not true—"

"It is, and I get it. You are so much better with him, and I mean I can't feed him, but you can take time for yourself. He's my son too, and I can watch him."

She sighs, "You shouldn't have to come home from work and jump into watching him, that's not your responsibility."

He frowns, "Yes, it is; we're his parents, not just you. And I love him, I love spending time with him; it's not a chore, it's a privilege. I want you to have time for yourself. When's the last time you painted? Or went to the store without him? I can watch him while you do those things, and I want to."

"You are too good to me."

He sighs, "I'm not, you are just too hard on yourself."

That's probably true. "I just feel like I can't do anything right anymore, and I don't know what to do. I miss you, I miss us, and I know you don't want me but—"

He opens his mouth, his eyes widening in shock. He rushes to reassure, "I want you so badly, you have no idea."

She must have heard him wrong. "You… you want _me_?"

He smiles at her, "Of course, darling. I want you all the time. I, uh, I miss being with you, but you haven't wanted it and I didn't want to pressure you."

"I…" Her mind is reeling. He wants her, has wanted her, everything isn't ruined. He opens his mouth and she kisses him, hard. She's caught him by surprise but he recovers quickly, his hands coming to her neck, one threading through her hair as he pulls her even closer.

They kiss and kiss and she revels in it, in the desire he's pouring into the kisses. It's been ages since they kissed like this, it's been all quick pecks since that time a couple of months ago when things were just starting to heat up, interrupted when Henry started screaming. She could have restarted it when she got him settled down, but she hadn't really been in the mood. Her whole pregnancy had been constant desire, then once she had Henry, it was like all desire left her.

Now though, now she wants him, it's been buried under exhaustion and the foolish thought that he didn't want her, but she napped today and her mistaken view has been dispelled, so nothing is going to stop her.

He breaks the kiss and stares at her hungrily in a way that makes her hot. She may not feel sexy, at least not like she used to, but the way Robin is looking at her makes her feel desirable for the first time in a long time.

Her pulse picks up, and she bites at her lip, and then he's kissing her again, more forcefully, all teeth and tongue. She brings a hand down to his pants and he's hard, straining against the fabric of his pants. He wants her, and she's going to do something about it, right here in this car.

She's glad they were late, that they are at the back, because she would die of embarrassment if they were caught. It's dark out, but not fully dark yet, so someone could see what they were up to if they got close enough.

She breaks the kiss to plant sucking kisses down his neck, delighting in the way it makes him shiver and moan. Her hands are busy, undoing his pants and pushing them down. She won't take off his shirt, that's too risky, but she slides her hand into his boxers and starts stroking him firmly.

"Mmm, that's good, darling," he moans.

She can't resist teasing him, "Just wait until I really get going."

He moans and groans softly with disappointment when her hand slips off of him so she can get his boxers out of her way. She shimmies, sliding her butt to the edge of the seat by the door, answering his, _What are you doing?_ with action. She lowers her head down to his hard length and plants a soft kiss to the tip of him that makes him twitch and pant.

Her hand plays with his balls as her mouth sucks lightly at the tip of him. He moans his appreciation and she swoops down, making him let out a grunted, "Ahh," as his hips buck.

She loves that she can draw this reaction from him, and the sounds he's making only spur her on. There's a heated thrum between her legs now that she's ignoring as she licks and sucks at him, getting reacquainted.

She's taking her time, rediscovering how he likes this, how much of him she can take. He's enjoying it, panting, and gasping, letting out little sounds of appreciation. His one hand tangles in her hair, as she starts a slow rhythm up and down him, bringing him as deep as she can into her mouth, then pulling back and sucking.

"Yeah, like that," he moans and it's hot. She loves what she can do to him, loves giving him pleasure. She should have done this sooner, should have dropped to her knees and finished him off when she caught him masturbating. She imagines it, imagines him coming and she wants to see it, wants to hear it, so she speeds up.

He moans, his hand gripping her hair more tightly, his thighs twitching, butt clenching.

She keeps going until he pants, "Oh, mmm, you gotta ssstop that."

She pulls off of him, replacing her mouth with her hand and softly stroking him as she questions, "Why?"

He moans when she strokes him more firmly. "Too—Oh—too close."

She smirks up at him, assures, "That's alright," then swoops back down, using her hand and mouth to work over him hard and fast.

He gasps and his protest dies on his lips when she swirls her tongue around his tip while sucking him. He lets out this guttural sound that makes her belly clench and everything inside her throb. This was just going to be for him, but now her own need is getting the better of her.

She does it again and he rewards her with that utterly erotic sound, then makes things even better when he pleads with her to go faster.

She does as asked, resumes bobbing up and down, taking him as deep as she can. They make eye contact for a second, he's been watching her but she's been focused on her task. Now that she's met his eyes, and sees the lust in them, sees him fighting to keep them open as the pleasure rips through him, she keeps looking.

He bites at his lip, and man, is he ever attractive like this—is attractive all the time, but especially now, flushed and panting all because of her.

He whimpers that he's close, and though she already knew that, she grows even warmer from the revelation. Her free hand teases at his firm balls and that's all it takes. He comes in her mouth with a relieved grunt, the sound making her press her thighs together to relieve the ache it called up. He's panting as she sucks him gently a few more times, drawing it out as he twitches. She swallows around him, which makes him moan softly before giving him one last firm suck, letting him fall from her lips.

He's still breathing hard as she rights herself back in her seat. He reaches for her, an uncoordinated attempt to pull her into his arms. She scoots beside him, resting her head on his shoulder, her hand coming around his chest. She can feel his racing heart under her palm.

"Oh, wow, that was… wow." He manages and she feels a flash of pride at the state she worked him to, her confident, composed Robin, gone to mush, all because she took him in her mouth.

He takes a few more breaths, then his hand slides up her thigh, a bit clumsily, but she still twitches with anticipation as his hand gets closer to where she needs. He finds her clit, rubbing her through her underwear. She moans at the sensation and he does too when he realizes how wet she is, his fingers tracing over the damp fabric.

"May I?" he asks, pulling at the waistband, the answer is obvious, she's ridiculously wet. He's seeking permission he doesn't need, wouldn't normally ask for, but then it has been a while.

She nods, lifting her hips to assist him. She bunches her dress up at her hips so his access is unimpeded.

He licks his lips, staring down at her in wonder as his hand trails back up her thigh, his fingertips dragging in a way that makes her twitch. It feels good, more so when he adds his nails in, a gentle scrape that almost tickles, but in a good way.

Her senses are in overdrive and even these faint, teasing touches feel amazing. She hasn't had an orgasm in months, and she needs it now. Her clit is throbbing, is swollen and needy for the attention Robin is taking his sweet time bestowing. He'd only given her a few rubs before, but it was enough to have her breath racing, muscles tightening and pleasure blooming.

She's not going to take long when he gets to it, all of the anticipation and how long it's been are working to his advantage, making her hypersensitive, already so wet and on edge.

When his hand finally settles where she needs it, her moan is loud and overeager. He rubs little circles over her clit that have her arching and gasping for him not to stop.

He stops for a second and she glares at him, but it's only so he can sink two fingers inside her, and oh, that's _good_. Those fingers search around, moving and pressing until she gasps, "There," when he hits that spot that has pleasure radiating out from deep inside her. Man, she's missed this, it feels amazing. How did she survive so long without feeling this incredible feeling? She's never doing that again, that's for sure.

He adds a third finger, which stretches her deliciously, as he continues to curl into that spot, his palm grinding against her clit, the delightful friction a perfect counterpoint to the slow, deep pressure he's creating inside her.

She can hear how wet she is with every thump of his fingers, she's clenching around him, her butt clenching, hips bucking, thighs trembling in reaction to the intense sensation.

She's close, so close, already. The feelings start to boil over and then she's hit with an influx of pleasure so sharp her whole body jerks and Robin has to bring his other hand in to hold her down. She's crying out, _Mmm_ s, and, _Ah_ s, as she's consumed by wave after wave of exquisite heat. The sensation radiates out, most intense in her centre, but flowing down her legs and up her spine, making her shiver. It's extraordinary, the feeling of release powerful and all-consuming.

She barely hears Robin's heated, "Tell me when it's enough," too glad he isn't stopping as her orgasm spins out.

When it finally hits that edge of too much, she pants, "Now," and his goes slack, fingers slipping out of her as she catches her breath.

"That was long," he remarks smugly, and all she can do is nod. It was long, intense and so needed. And she's not done, no sir, she needs more, needs to feel that again, needs to feel him inside her, how he stretches her, be joined with him that way again.

It's fully dark outside now, that last bit of light having disappeared at some point when she was too lost in pleasure to notice. But she notices now, and it's good because she needs to feel him inside her and doesn't want to wait a moment— she also doesn't want to get caught doing it here, so the darkness is perfect.

There's just one problem she realizes as she kisses him and moves to straddle him, he's not ready yet. He's aroused, but not firm, not solid enough for her to ride him the way she wants. He must know what she was going to do because he tells her, "Just need a few more minutes love," between hot kisses.

She's a little disappointed, but then he's unbuttoning her dress, his lips find her neck, her cleavage and then descends her extremely sensitive nipples and she forgets all about it. She jerks when he licks over one, laving his tongue gently, testing out what she can handle.

She's absolute putty in seconds. The soft flicks of his tongue lighting her up like never before. She's always been sensitive, but this is unlike anything she's ever felt. She'd been worried breastfeeding would ruin this for her, and maybe it would have earlier on, but now it's just good.

Her hips start to rock reflexively, seeking out friction against her clit. Robin notices, and his hand slides down, rubbing firmly up and down, and _oh,_ that's good, so good. Her orgasm builds quickly, the flick of his tongue against sensitive nipples coupled with firm pressure on her clit proving to be exactly what she needs.

It's barely two minutes of him rubbing before she starts to tighten, feels herself growing close, revving up toward orgasm. When he switches to those circles she likes so much, it's over. She gasps as orgasm swamps her, not as intense as the last time, but still _so good_ , that rush of bliss leaving her boneless and breathless.

He's harder now, still not quite ready, but she can fix that. She takes a second to bask, trading lazy kisses with him, then moves down his neck. She sucks at that spot that always makes him groan—it does as she knew it would—and brings her hand down to stroke him. He firms up as she strokes him, her mouth still busy at his neck, delighting in the way she makes him twitch and moan.

Once he's solid, she attempts to stand so he can slide over to her side, so she doesn't have to worry about the steering wheel digging into her back. It's awkward repositioning, but they make it work eventually.

She settles on his lap, kissing him fiercely while grinding on top of him. She's so wet she slides easily against him, coating him as she works them both up. The grinding friction feels so good, is making her even wetter.

Both of their breaths have gone ragged, but she's addicted to the way he's looking at her, wants to draw this out a bit she keeps it up, even though they are both desperate for more.

His hands, roam her body, teasing her nipples, burying in her hair, down her back, clutching her rear. Every touch feels incredible and she wants him so much, but the wanting is so welcome she almost doesn't want to let it go.

But then on one grind, he moves one way, she moves the other, and the tip of him slips right in, that's how wet she is. They both moan, then she's sinking fully onto him, relishing the feeling of finally taking him inside her again.

She means to take it slow, but as soon as he's all the way inside her, things change. He's buried deep, his hands grip at her hips, urging her up. It's all the encouragement she needs and she starts moving at a fast pace, delighting in the feeling of being filled after so long. She grips at his shoulders, moving her hips up and down, then adding a little rock when he's buried deep that makes them both moan. Her from the delicious friction against her clit, and him (well, she guesses) from the way she clenches around him.

She switches to more of a rocking motion, that feels amazing. She basks in that until he begs her, "Love, please, go faster."

She wants that too, wants to feel him hit that spot inside her over and over. She gives a few testing thrusts, crying out when she finds the right angle. She goes as hard as she can, loving the electric heat that builds inside her from the blunt pressure against that spot inside her. It's not enough, not on its own, so she pushes his hand blindly between her thighs.

"Mmm, love you, darling," he pants as his hand starts rubbing firmly over her clit.

"Mmm, yesss, oh, honey, don't stop, don't stop," she pleads as she rises higher and higher.

"Mmm, never, won't stop until you—Ah—oh love, please, you feel so, need you to come for me please."

His urgings turn her on even more, and it's not until he pleads, "I can't—need you to—" that she actually spills over. She feels the pleasure surge through her, drawn out by the way he thrusts from beneath her, and his fingers furiously rubbing against her clit. She's trying to tell him how amazing it feels, but all that comes out is broken cries. She's still coming as he groans out his release, she feels him spurt inside her as she rides out the waves.

She collapses atop him and they stay that way for several minutes, until the words, "The end," come through the speaker and they start to hurriedly dress. A car passes with its lights on while she has her dress on but fully unbuttoned. She prays they weren't looking in because she hasn't been wearing anything over her breasts because it's easier to feed her son by just undoing the top buttons.

She starts to laugh as she buttons herself up, and it's infectious. Soon they are both in stitches as cars drive by them on the way out. Eventually, they regain their composure and leave the drive-in.

They laugh, joke and flirt shamelessly as they drive home. She feels free, unfettered, and she wants to stay that way.

Things change in their house after that night. Regina starts painting again, leaves Henry in Robin's care, takes advantage of Tink's offer and spends a night out each week with Robin. By the time Christmas rolls around, she's outstandingly happy, and more secure than ever in her relationship with Robin. When she's told to make a Christmas wish, she responds that she has everything she could ever want, and it's true.


End file.
